the third version of this blog because I've become just that: older and wiser.

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You hurt me. Not with words, but by withholding them when I needed them most.

You hurt me when you walked away.

You took with you my dreams, my hopes and my passion.

You scarred me with the ill-chosen words you did choose to use when you allowed anger to guide you, and your eyes to be closed to compassion.

You turned your back on me when I needed someone to prop me up.

I needed to lean on you, and you let me fall and I struggle to believe that it wasn’t deliberate.

You knew I was treading water, yet you threw me no lifelines. You responded to my cries for help with anger.

Were you angry at me for being weak? Or angry at yourself for being ill equipped to deal with the onslaught of emotion that I bring to the table?

Some say that you were not ever able to deal with me emotionally, but I call bullshit. You always knew exactly what you were doing.

I know I’m pretty full on but you knew that from the very beginning.

This was always all about control, and power and winning no matter the cost. It was about arrogance and selfishness.

I want to hate you for this and for all the rest of the pain you have caused me over the years, but hate is such a strong force that I don’t want to allow it in to poison me. Because I know it will damage me irreparably.

Part of me wants to find out what I need to do to cause you the same level of hurt and pain that you’ve caused me, but I know deep down that revenge is never the answer.

Love is.
Forgiveness is.
I’ve held onto enough pain to last me a lifetime and it’s starting to make me physically ill so it’s time to let it all go.
It’s time for me to move on and allow healing to begin.

You’ve left me damaged, but not broken. Cautious but not so much that I’ll never be able to let someone in again.

You don’t deserve that much power over me.

Your neglect of our relationship, of our history and our connection hasn’t left me feeling as cold as it I would’ve expected.

It has pushed me closer to Jesus. To the one who will never be disappointed in me.

The one who will never crush me with angry words, the one who will never abandon me.

So thank you. Thank you for teaching me that it was always foolish to expect a human to be what only God can be.

Like this:

I’ve was sitting down at this computer for several hours this morning writing out whatever came into my head. I was trying to process some big stuff that’s going on here and writing it out usually helps me to make sense of it all. Heck – I stayed up most of the night trying to write it out and got nowhere.

And it didn’t work today either. At all.

Words were looping in my brain and the solutions all seemed so far off. So I turned on some music, closed my eyes and tried to slow my brain down by forcing my thoughts to go elsewhere.

I do wonder at times like this just how much aspie there is in me. Maybe I’m not as neuro-typical as I first thought? Or maybe this is a normal reaction to too much stress and confusion. I just don’t know and don’t particularly care right now.

I turned off the computer and moved over to the lounge room to lay down on the sofa. I could hear the children playing in the background – the sound of the Ninjago app I recently downloaded was coming from the iPad.

My daughter was watching one of her teen shows on TV and the little one was rolling around on the rug piling cushions on top of himself because he was seeking sensory input. I looked at each of them and smiled. They really are everything to me. So different to one another – so unique in their own special ways.

Ella walked over to me and handed me a coffee. It was strong and black – just the way I like it and sat down beside me putting her tiny waif arm around me pulling me close and kissing the top of my head. The daughter was comforting the mother – so wrong yet so RIGHT. And this action in itself is HUGE because she is not a touchy-feely person at all. But my girl sensed that I needed to be held.

In that moment I thanked God for allowing me the privilege of raising her. I love her so much and can’t believe that I have been trusted with so much.

I looked over at my big boy and noticed him reading his new Ninjago book intently. He was engrossed and sitting on his haunches just like my Dad used to do. A tear came to my eye and I wiped it away quickly. I couldn’t afford to lose it, there was too much to be done.

My little one had progressed to doing laps of the living area. He had set up an obstacle course with toys, bean bags and cushions and was jumping, skipping and hollering with delight. My problems suddenly seemed so insignificant.

I closed my eyes and lay my head back down and drifted off to sleep because I had been awake for most of the night. When I awoke later I heard giggling in the kitchen and I crept out to see the three of them working as a team. They were making me the most disgustingly wonderful sandwich I have ever seen. And instantly nothing else mattered.

I realised right then that I have everything because I have love.

It may not always come from where I most desire it, and it is sometimes disjointed and awkward and usually messy, but I have love.

Thank God for love. Thank God He loves me more than any other human being could possibly love me.

Thank God that He sees me and not the mess I have made of my life, and He loves me still.

Have a great weekend all.

x

Yes – it’s an old pic but the only one I could find with all 3 kids in it 🙂

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I’ve been pretty slack at this whole blogging thing lately. I have had a lot to say but have been unable to put it into words that I’m comfortable enough with to publish.

Because the truth is, I’m hanging on by a thread at the moment. I’ve become pretty good at hiding my despair but thankfully, there are three people in particular in my life who are always there on the end of a text, phone call or email who keep me from completely losing it.

And they are all able to read between the lines and work out what’s really going on. I love all of them so dearly.

But even so, there is still so much that I really need to write out and deal with and I’ve struggled with writing it out ever since my writing was harshly criticized and made fun of recently.

I’m struggling with the bigger things too.

Like our visits to Harley’s psychologist. I haven’t even processed the information that she gave me on his first visit let alone the other times that he has been. He is just so complex and his issues are way over my head and capabilities and frankly: it scares the heck outta me. I’m not sure that I’ll ever be enough when it comes to helping him.

And the out-of-control behaviour that we are seeing in Lucas at the moment is something that I’ve honestly never seen before. I wonder if its an end-of-year exhaustion thing or whether he is struggling with stuff I can’t work out? And I wonder how deep it goes?

And if he will develop similar anxieties and fears as Harley and end up needing medication too? It’s all too much to get my head around.

Not to mention the friendships and relationship stuff that everybody has. Marriage is so damn hard at the best of times and the pressure increases when you have children who need so much more from you than the average child. I worry that my well will run dry and there will be nothing left to give.

There are already areas of my life that I have checked out of prematurely. It’s just all too overwhelming at the moment and I’m getting tired of just treading water all the time so it’s become easier to do nothing rather than make the wrong decisions.

Maybe that’s a bad decision? I don’t know, but survival mode does interesting things to a person. This funk I’m in has brought some rather abstract poetry out of me so I guess it’s not all bad.